


Every time I hold it back

by MarieRuby



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Captain America: The First Avenger, Established Relationship, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Marriage Proposal, bucky tries so hard to be emo but fails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-04 18:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18349646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieRuby/pseuds/MarieRuby
Summary: They never said the three words out loud but it was implied in every single action. Love was about caring, about sticking together no matter what, sickness and health until death tore them apart.“If we could then, would you?” The shield around his heart broke down. The alcohol from dinner, the cigarettes, the moonlight and the perpetual cold inside his bones that only stopped aching when Steve touched him broke all of his defenses. He wanted to hear it, even if it was just once. The future was uncertain, and he needed something to hold on. If he died here in Europe, he needed to know.“Could what?”“Get married" ...-----------------------------------orWW2 Paris proposal (kind of)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my first ever stucky fanfiction!  
> second chapter is finished, just needs to be edited.  
> xx

 

It started out in a foggy night in 1943. Or well, it started in 1932 when James Barnes and Steve Rogers shook hands for the first time, but that wasn’t relevant now. What mattered was the after-dinner walk Captain America and Sergeant Barnes took after a surprisingly tasty meal in occupied Paris, and the stop they made at the bridge. Things were tense between them, so many unspoken truths and people standing in the one meter separating their shoulders. It felt like they were going to suffocate at any moment. 

 

“Remember when we talked about travelling abroad?” always remember this, remember that with Steve, as if with evoking the past so often he could erase the painful present. 

 

“Yes.” Bucky did, in fact, recall every conversation he and Steve had under their blankets during the worst cold waves of Brooklyn. He just didn’t want to talk about it as much as the other man, since there was no point in dwelling in the past. They wanted things, they got them, but mostly they lost. Memories couldn’t fix a war. 

 

“Here we are. Didn’t think it would be so cold.” The attempted joke sounded awkward on the Captain’s lips, and he knew it.

 

Bucky said nothing in return. He patted his pockets on the search of his pack of cigarettes and lighted one, facing away from Steve in a habitual gesture from before. He took a big deep breath and let the nicotine reach his lungs. He closed his eyes for a second and let himself exist in the space-time continuum of smoke, trying to savor the momentary peace away from reality. 

 

When he exhaled, he felt Steve come closer, a wall of warmth in his back and the unreleased tension of the last couple of months making themselves present in the air. It was hard to resist temptation in the war. To not reach out every other time for Steve, grab his hands, shoulders, waist. They always had to hide before. It was an inside four-walls sort of affair, but somehow they took for granted the intimacy they were allowed in their tiny apartment in Brooklyn. Now they were surrounded by their troops at all times, superior officers, enemies and Peggy Carter. 

 

Agent Carter, who looked at Steve and saw him for all he was, flaws included. Who wasn’t afraid of raising her voice and calling him out on his bullshit when Steve was being particularly insufferable, and giving out difficult order because she was very competent in her job, and not compromised at all despite her personal affections. She was more than Bucky was ever going to be, and he couldn’t even resent her for it. His love for Steve was the all-encompassing one, the kind that would mean letting the other man get married to the woman of his dreams and stand there cheering as the happy couple made their way down the altar. If he survived that is. He wasn’t even sure he was alive now, with everything around his body looking so different since he escaped Azzano. 

 

A hand touched his hip and squeezed for a moment before letting go. “What are you thinking about?” 

 

“Marriage.” Bucky’s voice was gruff from the cigarette and from the internal turmoil of the last seconds. 

 

“What?” 

 

“This would be a nice place to propose. You know. After.” He did a gesture with his left hand, meant to indicate a future nobody knew for sure it existed. 

 

“I don’t think that will be allowed anytime soon, Bucky.” 

 

“I wasn’t talking about you and me.” He knew it was a hurtful thing to say, but he was feeling all the sorrow and jealousy and didn’t know if he could keep it inside for much longer.  

 

“Oh. Well, I mean yeah, I’m sure couples will like the chance to propose in Paris. Sounds… romantic.” Steve trailed off awkwardly and let the words hand between them. He did know when to pick his battles, and it sounded like he wanted to retreat in this one. 

 

Bucky turned around harshly and the words were already in the tip of his tongue. He wanted to charge forward today, release all the pent up frustration one way or another. 

 

“I pegged you for a romantic. I don’t know about Carter, but you should try your luck anyway.” He was being petty, trying to make Steve admit something he knew wasn’t even a real concern. 

 

“It isn’t like that and you know it, Buck.” 

 

“How is it then?” The fight was starting to leave him, dimming down in the light of Steve’s eyes looking straight into his, the way he wasn’t raising to Bucky’s bait for an argument. 

 

“It’s me dropping from a illegal airplane with nothing but my costume into hostile territory because I can’t think of a life without you, Barnes.” 

 

The silence stretched after that, and Bucky wanted to scream  _ you can’t have it all Steve, you should stay with her because i’m not going to make it and I’m going to drag you down with me. _ However, he was selfish. He couldn’t part ways with the person he loved most in this world, he didn’t even know how. There was the possibility of a white picket fence for Steve, a wife and a job where he was admired and respect, but Bucky didn’t think he could be the one to push him to get it. No anymore, not after staring death in the face and waking up to see Steve, bigger than life itself, rescuing him from hell. 

 

They never said the three words out loud but it was implied in every single action. Love was about caring, about sticking together no matter what, sickness and health until death tore them apart. 

 

“If we could then, would you?” The shield around his heart broke down. The alcohol from dinner, the cigarettes, the moonlight and the perpetual cold inside his bones that only stopped aching when Steve touched him broke all of his defenses. He wanted to hear it, even if it was just once. The future was uncertain, and he needed something to hold on. If he died here in Europe, he needed to  _ know.  _

 

“Could what?”

 

“Get married. If we lived in a less fucked up world, Stevie, would you marry me?” He didn’t make a proposal, but he did make it a challenge.  _ If nothing is happening with her, and you love me, would you marry me?  _ He didn’t know what would hurt more right now, a yes or a no. 

 

“Bucky…” 

 

“Never mind, it’s stupid.” 

 

“It’s not stupid! I just… “Steve trailed off and closed his eyes for a second, gathering for whatever he was about to say. “I know we are not supposed to, but I don’t think I’ll ever feel like this for somebody else. I spent half of life thinking I wouldn't make it to the next winter and the only small comfort I had was knowing you were by my side, no matter what. Bucky, I- damn it, I’m not saying it right.” He took a deep breath and took a step forward, making their chests nearly touch. 

 

“I know it’s never going to be easy, or perfect, and that this war doesn’t seem to have an end in sight, but _ nothing _ would make more sense and make me more happy than getting to call you my husband, because that’s what you are.” 

 

Bucky choked out a “Steve…” and let himself tear up. It wasn’t how he thought this night was going to be, standing in a bridge in Paris hearing Steve say he would like to get married. 

 

“And we’ve been doing this for so long now, I- Bucky, please- never doubt that I want everything with you.” 

 

The whole war comes crashing down on him. It’s like the weight he has been carrying on his back finally spills everywhere and the only reason the doesn’t fall to his knees is because he has been through literal torture and learned to stay upright no matter what. It’s too much, the way Steve is looking at him, with so much love, passion and the sort of devotion it should not be allowed to exist between two people.

 

He asked out of morbid curiosity, because they have nothing to lose anymore. He expect Steve to be conflicted, about the idea of marriage with another man, Peggy, the war, Bucky.

 

A “no” would have been a kinder death that the confirmation that he was unconditionally loved, because he didn’t feel deserving of it right now, and because they could never do it. They weren’t allowed to exchange rings and tell the world about it, and it cut him deeper than any knife ever would. 

 

“I would too. Marry you, I-” He gathered himself to say it, because if nothing else, he could give Steve this. At least once, before it was too late. 

 

“I love you.” There. No take backs, no euphemisms, no second guessing.

 

He doesn’t know who made the first move, but suddenly they were kissing. It wasn’t their most passionate kiss ever because they were still aware of their surroundings, and because it was meant as a kind bliss in the middle of chaos. If they lived in a different world, one of them would have a small box in their pocket with a ring, maybe a speech ready and their friends cheering. It felt like an engagement, but it wasn’t. They could pretend for a couple of seconds though. 

 

“I love you too.” The emotion was thick on Steve’s voice. They were on borrowed time tonight.  Soon they would have to return to base, but for now, he wanted to stay trapped inside their bubble forever. Nothing was  _ this _ exhilarate, not even getting inside a radioactive machine and stepping out a supersoldier.  

 

It didn’t feel impossible anymore. He could picture it, in a distant sort of way, the two of them standing in front of an altar, saying  _ i do _ . 

 

Living in together in a three bedroom house with a white picket fence and a dog. Laughter, tears, arguments, makeup sex, all in one, side by side. It wasn’t a dream, it was a fantasy, but it made Bucky feel tingly from the bottom of his feet all the way to the top of his head. 

 

There was noise coming from the end of the bridge, approaching soldiers enjoying the same temporary freedom as they were. They let go of each other slowly, and Bucky surged forward for one last peck. It was a sweet kiss like the one you give after the priest says you’re allowed to.

 

God, he was so tired of everything, but never of Steve. Let it be war, mayhem and even death, Bucky swore to himself they would get to do it properly one day. He would ask, fate be damned, and they’d say the words, even if it was just for themselves. They deserved it, after everything they had been through. 

 

It was too risky to keep standing so close to each other, so their both took a step back and turned to the river. The silence was comfortable again, and there was a small smile tugging on both their lips. 

 

Something had just changed, and for the first time in months, for the better. 

 

“What now?”  They couldn’t go back for a glass of champagne and yell  _ hey we kinda got engaged  _ to their friends. 

 

“Now, we fight and we live, because I’m really looking forward to our honeymoon.” Steve said jokingly but the fierceness of his voice betrayed his intentions. 

 

The walk back to camp was slow and measured. Tomorrow they would have to return to being soldiers in an endless war, but for the night, they allowed themselves to hope. 


	2. Chapter 2

Steve had been following international terrorists for approximately seven months when he got the call. He also knew how many days had passed since Bucky decided to get back to the cryochamber, but he was trying to be less dramatic so Natasha would stop calling him out on it. 

 

“Captain Rogers.” Shuri’s voice and face were clear on the device she gave him, and he closed the motel door with his foot while trying to pretend he his heart wasn’t almost beating out of his chest. 

 

“Shuri, hello. Is everything alright?” 

 

“Well, that really depends on how you define alright…” She trailed off and smirked at the screen.  

 

“Did something happen?” His hands were shaking now, and he was starting to sweat a little under the collar. Calls from Wakanda were always stress inducing, even though nothing had ever gone wrong before. 

 

“ Something did happen, but you can relax, it’s not bad. In fact, I think you can say these are good news.” 

 

“Oh, is Bucky…?” He couldn’t finish the question, didn’t even know how. 

 

“I won’t tell you he is cured, because i’m afraid trauma is not that simple. But the trigger words are out of his brain, and the injuries he sustained during your Siberia adventure are entirely healed.”  

 

It was possibly the most reliving thing Steve had ever heard. The shaking spread to his whole body, like a sudden adrenaline rush. 

 

“So he's awake now?”  

 

“He has been for a while.” 

 

“A while..?” Had Bucky been conscious for how long now? Steve tried not to call too much, he knew he was already on a huge debt with Wakanda and didn’t want to overstep their good will. Still, he had been in frequent contact, and nobody mentioned it. 

 

“ _Urg_ , I knew I’d be the one doing the explaining.” Shuri said with an annoyed expression. “See, I have told him,  _ over and over again _ , that he should be a big boy and call you, but nooooo, what do I know, I’m just 17, it’s not like I do-” 

 

“Shuri, please.” Steve interrupted her monologue and sat down harshly on the single bed on the bedroom. He could tell where she was getting at. He had been working intelligence for a couple of months, he could easily extract information from a muddled speech.

 

“Right. Barnes has been awake for two months now.” 

 

Two months. Bucky had been out for eight weeks, and he hadn’t known about it. He wanted to be there, to help him ease in back into the world, to show him it didn’t always have to be pain, torture, fear. Instead he had been eating pasta in Italy while waiting for their target to make a move and take down the rest of Hydra. 

 

“It’s not like we were hiding it from you!” Something in his expression made her speak out and lean forward, as if she was trying to console him. 

 

“It’s just that, well. We didn’t know it was going to work when we woke him up, and then we had to acclimate him to the world again. After that, there were some cognitive and physical tests… and then he needed space. And time. And goats apparently.” 

 

“Goats.” He felt like he was floating for a second. The words didn’t really line up in his brain, because he couldn’t picture what she was saying without getting choked up and maybe having a breakdown.  

 

“Yeah, he has become obsessed with them! I don’t if he always liked animals so much or if it’s, like, a weird coping mechanism, but he named them.” She smiled at this, and the fondness she felt for Bucky was apparent in her voice. 

 

“I don’t know either.” He he didn’t. There was so much his best friend kept close to his heart, even while they were growing up. After being captured Bucky became a puzzle, sometimes shutting down for weeks and other times being so close to Steve they were practically attached by the hip. Now though, he was both the Winter Soldier and Sergeant Barnes, a soviet ex-murderer and a USA soldier, Steve’s best friend and a stranger. Whoever he was, he chose to be alone, and that felt like being asthmatic all over again. His breathing got erratic and he tried to calm down so he wouldn't have a meltdown in front of a teenage princess from a foreign country. 

 

“Steve, I think he just needed some time to organize his thoughts. His life has not been easy, and getting the words out was exhausting.”

 

“I understand. I guess I just got caught off guard.” The thing that had him going all those months was imagining his return to Wakand, getting to see Bucky again, even if he could not remember a single piece from the past. It didn’t matter what version of the man it was, as long as he was alive and well. 

 

Losing Bucky had been like getting his heart ripped out his chest, and the pain never really left. There was no time for grieving, and when there was he didn’t know how. He was aware he should have, at least made an effort to try and accept it, but deep down in his soul, he couldn’t.

 

“Thank you for reaching out Shuri. I’ll be in touch soon.” Hanging up now was the safest course of action. He knew he couldn’t pretend to be ok for much longer. He was starting to crumble under the weight of emotion, and he needed to process the news by himself. 

 

“Wait! He asked me to call you for a reason.”

 

“Oh, he did?” At this point he wasn’t sure he could handle any more surprises. 

 

“Yes. I will admit I did not want any part on this white boy suffering you both have going on, but he was very persuasive.” Steve could imagine them arguing over the phone, and it left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. 

 

“He asked me to let you know he is waiting for you at the _ after place”  _ Bucky was waiting for him? He got up in a rush and took half a step. He didn’t know where to go, but his body had a will of its own. 

 

_ “ _ Where?” 

 

“That’s what I asked him, but only the gods know what goes into his head.” 

 

The after place. He had no idea what that meant, and his mind was tripping itself trying to decode the meaning of Bucky’s words.

 

“I don’t know what that means.” He tried desperately to remember every conversation they ever had but that was impossible even for him.

 

“I don’t know either. You location device shows that you landed in Paris yesterday. Considering he conveniently left 24 hours ago, I’d say he is somewhere near you.”

 

Paris.  _ Paris! _

Their last time together in France had felt too surreal to be true. That night on the bridge was too important to be forgotten, but Steve tried not to remember it too much. Every time he recalled the conversation, a stabbing sensation on his chest appeared and his mind filled with  _ what ifs _ .

The day he found out about marriage equality, the world caved on his back for a second. It was an impossible possibility, in a world of personal injustices. He was happy for everyone that could now enjoy the happiness they deserved, but he knew it would never come for him. The law was a couple of decades too late.    
  


“I know where he is. Shuri, thank you for everything.” The smile overtaking his face was bright enough to be seen on the other side of the world. 

 

“I would say anytime, but actually, I don’t want this to become a habit Captain.” She had of way of teasing him that made him feel comforted. 

 

He hanged up and left the hotel in a rush. The commute to the bridge was fast but it felt longer than the seventy years he was frozen in the Arctic. 

There he was. Arms folded on the railing overlooking the river, eyes scanning the area in a movement Natasha always replicated everywhere she went. His hair was down, swinging with the wind, and his face was slightly tilted in the direction of the sun. Steve’s breath was knocked out of his chest by how beautiful he looked. 

The distance between never felt smaller than in that moment. Steve’s legs carried him without thought, and he stopped next to Bucky, a couple of meters between them. His body was numb and his brain static. 

 

“It took me a while to remember this one. Every time I had a mission in France they had to sneak in some extra wipes because i’d try to go rogue without even knowing why.” 

 

Steve didn’t think he could survive this conversation. He thought he knew how bad it was, he read the reports after all, but somehow it always took him by surprise when he heard about Hydra’s cruelty. 

 

“But when I did, that messed me up for some weeks. I was still in Romania, trying to get by, but I kept walking to the train station and looking at trips to Paris. I wasn’t sure if it really happened or if it was wistful thinking from the old me.” 

 

“It was real.” Steve managed to mutter between his rapid heartbeat. God, it was the realest thing in their relationship, because they dared to say it. 

 

“Yeah, I was sure of it after Shuri took care of my scrambled brain. “ 

 

“I figured, hey if he is willing to drop out of a plane for me, get the shit beaten out of him by a amnesiac version of myself and turn his back on his country and shield and become an international fugitive, then he is crazy enough to marry me.” Bucky’s tone was soft, and bravado of his words were betrayed by the shakiness of his voice.

The almost-proposal was the most they were willing to admit at the time, forced by the always present threat of death. Now though, so many years later, they could act on their promises. They were technically fugitives of the law, and couldn’t get married on the count that Bucky was legally dead, but they didn’t have to hide either. 

 

“What?” Steve knew what was happening, logically, but he didn’t know how to react. Here he was, being proposed by the love of his life and he couldn’t say a word. 

 

“I’m more than 100 years old Stevie, don’t make me kneel.” 

 

“I-You, Bucky!” Was this what having a stroke felt like?

 

“Just say yes or no, please.”

 

“Yes! Oh my god, yes, a thousand times yes, I don-” He was saved by Bucky’s arms tugging him close and hugging him. They were both shaking, but Steve’s cells were breaking apart and being put back together by every passing second. They swayed from side to side, until Bucky pushed him slightly back to reach his pocket. 

 

“It’s not much, but I hope you like it.” The wooden box was decorated with symbols that probably meant something in Wakanda, and inside of it was a silver band.

 

Steve took it out of the box reverently, his shaking hands not allowing to fully appreciate the magnitude of what he was holding. He never let himself imagine this far away, because it would be a segue to heartbreak. Yet here he is, with a physical representation of everything he carries inside his heart, in the most warm places of himself. 

 

“It’s perfect.” The location, the ring, the way Bucky kept looking back and forth between Steve’s lips and his hands, all of it. He couldn’t help the tears in his eyes falling down, dripping all the way to his shoes. 

 

“I hope those are happy tears, sweetheart.” And that just intensified his crying, having Bucky call him that in broad daylight, after 75 years of missing him. 

 

Bucky himself was snuffling, and they both knew that playing it cool was out of the window. 

 

They still had a lot to figure it out. Their fugitive status, how they both became different people along the way, princesses and aliens, the end of the world and they always managing to come back together despite the universe conspiring otherwise.

 

There would be time for that later though. 

 

Now, Steve got to put a ring on his finger, and kiss the love of his life for the first time in decades. Now, Bucky got to tell his past-self that things were hell for a bit, but the piece of heaven Steve Rogers brought was enough. 

 

Now, they got to see Paris  _ after,  _ and make plans for the future, because they knew it would come. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it folks! Sorry for any mistakes, I edited myself and english is not my native language, soooooo some weird shit happens!   
> Follow me on tumblr for more nonsense: marieruby

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr for nonsense: marieruby


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